


always you, always us

by stopthenrewind



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: 10 Genre Fic Challenge, F/M, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-04-23
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3804526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopthenrewind/pseuds/stopthenrewind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Briefly, he wonders how they got here, how cooking and flirting and teasing turned into no physical space between them and one really overwhelming need to kiss her and possibly never stop, ever.</p><p>But then he looks at her and it’s like both of them know exactly how they’ve ended up here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	always you, always us

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this writing meme](http://stopthenrewind.tumblr.com/post/117003814541/give-me-a-person-or-ship-and-i-will-write-one) on Tumblr. Might turn this into a collection of AUs/ficlets/prompt fics if inspiration strikes.

**1\. Angst**

"I asked you, four years ago, if you wanted me or not," Annie says, eyes blazing as she stares him down. "So what's it gonna be?"

She thinks his silence is all the answer she needs, and she nods once in one part disbelief, one part disappointment, one part heartbreak before she leaves the room, and she makes it ten steps before she realizes Jeff Winger isn't ever going be brave or ready enough to follow her.

 

::

 

**2\. AU**

Jeff doesn’t particularly like hanging out in a hospital emergency room. Hospitals have cold, plastic chairs, dim fluorescent lighting, and an awful lingering smell, and Jeff thinks it’s just the worst place he could ever imagine to be stuck in.

Especially because he’s, to put it simply, having what must probably be _the_ worst day in history (there was a fucking wound on his temple that needed ten stitches and Dr. Rich with the unusually wide grin and the stupid, annoying face was definitely _not_ helping). But then he meets the pretty candy striper from down the hall, and, well.

Annie Edison is all glossy hair and blue eyes and shy smiles; she somehow manages to distract him from his annoyance and the throbbing in his head, and Jeff finds that he actually _likes_ talking to her. He maybe kind of likes staring at her, too, because really, she’s too pretty for her own good and he feels like she doesn’t even notice it.

She’s in the middle of talking about the little boy she’s visiting in the children’s ward when he tells her, smiling, “I think you’d make a good doctor,” and enjoys the way she turns a deep red and almost drops the pen she’s holding.

“Well, I’m not a doctor _yet_ ,” Annie says, still blushing. “I’m still in pre-med.” She perks up a little. “I did just apply a tourniquet to my neighbor the other day, though; that counts, right?”

“Impressive,” he chuckles. “Just, what, 2 or 3 more years? You’ll be a doctor soon enough.”

“I wish,” Annie wrinkles her nose. “I still have like 6 years to go.” At his confused look, she clarifies, “I’m a sophomore.”

Well, shit.

"Are you—" he begins, but he doesn’t finish his sentence. He wishes his voice isn’t so damn squeaky right now. "So, a sophomore, huh?"

He chooses to focus on the way she talks, and not on the fact that she's probably not even freaking 21 years old, and _definitely_ not on the stupid, stupid way that he is so, so attracted to her.

Later, he tries not to look at the nurse's station as he passes by, but then she's there, sipping on a Styrofoam cup of coffee, her eyes bright and animated as they skim eagerly across the page of her magazine.

He wants to walk up to her, wants to lean against the counter and ask her out, easy as pie. But then she glances up, catches his eye, and smiles that goddamn smile that makes any coherent thought fly out the window, and god damn it—he, you know, maybe has something of a stupid _crush_.

Before he can think about it thoroughly, he raises a hand in a _really fucking awkward_ wave goodbye, but before he can cringe at himself, she’s waving back, flushing prettily under the dull fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room.

"Take it easy, Jeff!" she calls out after him, and it takes everything in his power not to come running back in her direction.

Instead he flashes her a patented Winger grin, says, "See you, Annie Edison," and catches a final glimpse of her pleased smile as he finally makes his way out the door.

He chants the words in his head, tries to remember: young, student, barely legal, _not even 21 years old_. But then he also remembers: attractive, smart, boobs, idealistic, flushed face, pink lips, and shit shit _shit,_ he's a lazy piece of shit and a sleazy lawyer and a serial womanizing asshole with questionable morals, but there's something about Annie Edison that screams “out of bounds.” He's a lot of things, but a gut instinct tells him he should know better than to sleep with a young, attractive co-ed who’s just graduated from _high school_ less two years ago, for crying out loud.

He heads home, and you know what, he's still a little drunk and the pounding in his head probably _feels_ like a concussion, and it's not very likely that he'll be seeing Annie again, so, you know, all this damn _thinking_ is pretty much pointless.

He falls face-down on his sheets, and he _doesn't_ think about Annie Edison's pretty face and shiny hair and gentle smile when he closes his eyes.

 

::

 

**3. ~~Crack/~~ Humor**

"Jeff Winger," Annie sing-songs, and Jeff, busy trying to decide on a DVD to watch for movie night, honestly isn’t sure why she looks and sounds so amused. "Do you have me on speed dial?"

 _Crap._ He glances at his phone as she waves it around playfully. He goes for nonchalant disbelief, because there might still be a way he can salvage this situation. “What? No, I don't.”

"Mm-hmm," Annie says teasingly, smirking up at him from where she's crouching on her knees on Abed's recliner. " _Sure_ , you don't. It was probably _me_ who put me here, right on speed dial number—"

"Annie," he grits out, making a swipe for his cell and missing spectacularly when she ducks under his arm, "give me back my phone.”

"Nuh-uh," she retorts, looking positively gleeful as she eagerly scrolls through his phonebook. "This is amazing and I _have_ to take photographic evidence."

"I mean, of course you're there on speed dial," he says, going for a different tactic to distract her. "Seeing as how you call me all the damn time..."

She scoffs, darting around the living room faster than he can keep up with. “Psshaw! Who was it who called me last night to ask stupid stuff like where I bought my shampoo?”

He shrugs, looking casual but sounding defensive when he says, “I ran out!”

“ _Okay_ , Jeff.” She smirks, sticking her tongue out between her teeth as she squints at the screen. “Now let me just take a screenshot of this... Wait a minute!” Her eyes widen in indignation. “You put me on speed dial after the pizza place downtown?!”

He shrugs again and folds his arms, flashing her a self-satisfied grin. “I have my priorities,” he smirks, and he just grins even wider when Annie starts hitting him with a (large-ass) pillow.

“You are the _worst_ ,” she exclaims, but she’s grinning as she hits him maybe a little _too_ hard. “This doesn’t cancel out the fact that you have me on speed dial, though.” She smiles up at him sweetly before she’s back to hitting him again, giggling all the while.

He just makes another grab for his phone and laughs when he misses, because really, he is so never going to hear the end of this.

 

::

 

**4\. Future Fic**

“Fine! You want to know the truth?” He doesn’t know why he’s so _mad,_ why he’s so _frustrated_ , but he does know why he’s practically vibrating with the overwhelming need to get this off his chest. He looks at her and swallows thickly before saying, “The door opened because of _you!_ ”

Annie freezes in her seat, her eyes wide and surprised, and Jeff’s chest heaves painfully as he watches her and tries to breathe.

“Oh,” Annie whispers, and Jeff can feel his pulse pounding in his ears as she slowly raises her eyes to his.

 

::

 

**5\. First Time**

He doesn’t know why he expects this moment to be fast and frantic and frenzied; a tangle of limbs and heartbeats and tongues and handsrunning all over each other’s bodies. He thinks that’s what’s supposed to happen at this moment because this is _finally_ happening, because they’ve been wanting this—each other—for so damn long.

Instead, it’s a slow, almost careful press of lips that slowly dissolves into something deeper; tentative, almost reverent touches that soon end with skin against skin. He takes his time exploring her mouth, tasting her on his tongue, and he feels an overwhelming need to just stay like this, with her, for maybe possibly forever if she’d let him.

She laughs against his mouth when he flips them over, covering her body with his almost protectively, and she smiles up at him before leaning up and pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. He smiles against her mouth, and he’s _this close_ to actually saying the words, and when she opens her mouth he thinks she’s about to say them, too.

They’re not quite ready for that yet, but he still feels it, in the way she presses her naked body to his and in the way he feels her heartbeat against his own.

When they move, it’s slow and beautiful and breathless; and he thinks _this_ is how it’s supposed to go.

He figures that they have all the time in the world to figure things out.

For now, he kisses her and decides to savor the moment.

 

 

::

 

**6\. Fluff**

“Jeff,” Annie murmurs sleepily against his chest.

“Mmm.” He frowns and throws an arm across the smooth skin of her waist. “Sshh. Sleeping time.”

She giggles against his collarbone, making him smile against her hair. “It’s ten o’clock, sleepyhead.”

“You’re the reason I was up all night,” he says, then smirks when he looks down and sees her blushing.

She slaps his chest playfully. “ _I’m_ not the one who insisted on a round two.”

She’s giggling again, but then he feels her hand trailing up his thigh, dangerously close to where he suddenly desperately wants it, and he groans involuntarily, reaching out to grab her wandering wrist.

“Annie,” he fake-warns, pretending to look stern.

She rests her chin on his shoulder and smiles sweetly up at him. “Pancakes for breakfast?” she asks, batting her lashes as she curls her ankle around his and presses their bare chests together.

She so knows what she’s doing.

“You play dirty,” he says with a laugh and a shake of his head, but then she’s squealing when he’s suddenly hovering above her, one hand braced beside her head and the other hand dancing across her upper thighs.

She’s a little breathless at the sudden change, and he thinks that it should be practically be a crime for her to lie there on his bed, looking way too fucking beautiful to even be real.

She’s still smiling when she hooks her legs around his waist, and her mouth is against his ear when she says, “I guess the pancakes can wait.”

 

::

 

**7\. Dark-fic ~~/Gen~~**

She’s been clean for two years. _Two years._

And right now, she really, really hates herself, because for the first time since she got out of rehab, her mind flutters to the pink, heart-shaped box inside her closet and the five little pieces of secrets hidden inside.

 _I think you might be reading into things_ echoes in her head, and she really, _really_ hates herself, because it’s been two years and she’s worked _so_ hard to stay clean and she can deal with rejection and _she is better than this._

Her hand twitches as she imagines letting out one tiny, little secret.

 _I’m better than this,_ she repeats over and over in her head, and her closet door stays shut as she closes her eyes and breathes in deeply, in and out, in and out.

::

 

**8\. Hurt/Comfort**

When she learns she didn’t get into grad school, she sits there in the middle of her bed, staring down at the creamy piece of paper where her rejection is printed out in rows of neat, black letters.

She doesn’t know why, but the first thing she does is call Jeff.

The next thing she does is cry.

But when Jeff finds her fifteen minutes later, she’s sitting on the floor, her back leaning against the side of the bed. Her knees are pulled up to her chest, and her hand is scratching absentmindedly against the carpet underneath her; her eyes are red-rimmed but curiously dry.

“Hey,” he says tentatively, as he removes his coat and hangs it on the back of her door. “I brought your best friends Ben and Jerry over.”

She smiles a little and sniffs. “I think I need more of Jack and Daniels’ company, but that works, too.”

He slides down neatly on the floor beside her, prying open the lid of the tub and handing her a spoon he’s probably swiped from the kitchen. They eat ice cream in silence as they sit there, her shoulder brushing comfortably against his arm.

“There are other schools, Annie,” Jeff murmurs, his voice hesitant and quiet.

“There aren’t many that can look past Greendale.” She sighs. “I should probably just—”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Jeff interrupts, his voice firm, “and I’m gonna tell you right now to stop.”

She sighs again, then says, “I know you mean well, Jeff. I do.” She glances up and meets his eyes. “But I’m not really in the mood for a pep talk right now, okay?”

He nods slowly, and she goes back to scratching at her carpet, ice cream forgotten.

Then she feels his arm go all the way around her shoulders, wrapping firmly around the top of her chest, and his warmth and his breath across her hair and all the words he doesn’t (need to) say—they all make her feelings come tumbling down in one fell swoop.

She tucks her face in his neck and grabs the front of his shirt in one tight fist, and they stay like that for a long while, not needing to say anything at all.

 

::

 

**9\. Smut**

She shivers involuntarily when he kneels between her legs, his breath hot and needy against the inside of her thighs. She’s not sure how a simple goodnight kiss has led to this, with her back against her bedroom door and his hand up her skirt, but all Annie can process right now is _want want want_ and _need need need_.

 

::

 

**10\. UST (Unresolved Sexual Tension)**

“Well?” she murmurs, grinding her hips against his in a deliberate move that makes him moan raggedly in her ear. Briefly, he wonders how they got here, how cooking and flirting and teasing turned into no physical space between them and one _really_ overwhelming need to kiss her and possibly never stop, ever.

But then he looks at her and it’s like both of them know exactly how they’ve ended up here.

“Jeff,” Annie says, her eyes dropping to his mouth as her hands snake slowly around his neck and bury themselves in his hair, “kiss me.”

So presses his body against hers and does as she asks.


End file.
